


Pucker up, buttercup

by crayyyonn



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Misuse of Mistletoe, the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 17:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13618275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayyyonn/pseuds/crayyyonn
Summary: Mistletoe in February? Why the hell not.





	Pucker up, buttercup

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not over it, i have been watching 19x13 aka the episode that must not be named in stops and starts bc look my heart cannot take it so i just wanted to write something short and fluffy ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> why can't we have nice things ;;

“Stop right there.”

Rafael looks up from the folder in his hands, features already scrunched into a scowl. Carmen has just thrust a folder at him, filled with no fewer than twenty-nine motions for dismissal Buchanan has filed, and it’s barely nine am. He does not have time for this.

“Excuse me?”

Grinning, Carisi extends a finger, pointing it upward. Rafael automatically follows it, and after taking a couple of seconds to recognize what he’s seeing, takes a slow, careful breath.

“It’s February.”

“So?”

“It’s no longer Christmas.”

“Everyone here is in agreement that the rules of mistletoe should be abided wherever, whenever.”

“Since when?”

“Since precedent was set last year when Fin left that one sprig hidden above the pantry for the unsuspecting passing through.” Carisi’s grin turns into a full on smirk. “You brought it upon yourself, Counselor.”

With a grimace, Rafael glances over at Rollins and Liv, the latter whom he’d thought would have been his corner on this. From the way she’s not even hiding her snickering, instead leaning into Rollins as they giggle like a couple of high school girls, he doubts it. Such unbecoming behavior for New York’s Finest; they ought to be ashamed.

He looks back at Carisi, who’s previously cocky grin has suddenly taken on an uncertain, wounded woodland animal quality that has been constant of late. Rafael doesn’t know why—well, he does, but breaking off what amounted to a friends with benefit situation surely didn’t warrant the _puppy eyes Carisi has been sending your way, Barba, you can’t say you haven’t noticed_ , circa Liv at her nosiest.

Rafael had thought to let it run its course, but when it hasn’t dissipated at all even after a couple of months, it’s starting to make him think his good intentions ( _you’re just confused_ , in reply to Carisi’s stilted, awkward _do you want to go on a date with me_ , telling him, _the force will not take this well_ ) are being outright ignored.

“Just get _on_ with it, Barba,” Fin says, disgruntled, from close behind him. “Some of us don’t got all day.”

“Yeah, pucker up, buttercup,” Rollins calls out, before dissolving into more giggles. _Honestly_.

Rafael turns a glare at them, turns to do the same to Fin when he lets out an extremely put out (and exaggerated) sigh that gusts the hair at the nape of his neck. Then he turns back to Carisi, whose playfulness has turned distinctly downcast. The lean shoulders are slumped even more than usual even as he’s reaching up for the lone sprig. He gives it a tug and it comes off.

“Sorry Barba, just thought it was worth a shot,” he says, and well, that’s not fair at all, the way he’s almost pouting and looking like a child who’s just been denied cotton candy at the carnival and god _damn_ rookie cops named Dominick “Call me Sonny” Carisi  with their expressive baby blues and long lashes, with strong thighs that Rafael still jerks off to sometimes and long, slender, clever fingers that manage to drive Rafael mad with want even when they’re at their most affectionate and gentle and—

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

The smile that blooms against his lips is the best thing Rafael has felt in forever.


End file.
